


There is nothing more romantic than arm wrestling

by EllieStormfound



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Arm Wrestling, Bisexual Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Cerys an Craite is Queen of Skellige, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, First Kiss, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon's Parent, Idiots in Love, Lambert and Geralt give questionable dating advice, Mentioned Aiden (The Witcher), Minor Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), POV Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Post-Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, Witcher Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, but it works?, idiots to lovers, they are dumb your honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29942742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieStormfound/pseuds/EllieStormfound
Summary: In which Ciri gets questionable dating advice from Lambert and it actually works out in the end
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Cerys an Craite
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	There is nothing more romantic than arm wrestling

Ciri was standing in the great hall of the Kaer Trolde citadel, watching the feast Queen Cerys had invited her and the other wolf witchers to. Contrary to most banquets on the continent, the feasts on Skellige were actually fun. Cerys was standing on the other side of the hall, talking with a group of younger men and Ciri could hear her loud laugh echo over.

She wasn’t quite sure why she did not just walk over to join them. She had been looking forward to meeting Cerys again but something made her hesitate. Cerys looked so...happy and beautiful.

“So,” someone said next to her and made her jump, “the queen of Skellige, huh?”  
It was Lambert. He offered her a tankard of ale which she took, glad to hold something to stop her hands from fidgeting.  
After a long gulp and loud burp, that made her uncle chuckle, she said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” he said with a wink, “you’ve been eyeing her with that dopey expression all evening. So I guess you’ve got a big crush on her.”

With a sad shake of her head she sighed and said, „it doesn’t matter...she is way too cute for me anyway.“  
Lambert looked at Ciri with a frown.  
„What do you mean? Don’t you like cute women?“  
Ciri snorted most unladylike and said, „oh no, I do...but look at her, she is so...ahhh... AND she is a queen?“

Lambert huffed. “That is rich coming from the granddaughter of the queen of Cintra and daughter of the emperor of Nilfgaard.”  
Ciri shook her head and crossed her arms.  
“But I gave that all up and now I’m just a witcher.”  
“Oi, mind who you’re talking to,” Lambert bumped his shoulder into hers.  
“You know what I mean,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, you mean you’re fucking gay for her and scared she doesn’t feel the same way, so you’re trying to find excuses not to even try.”  
Ciri looked at her uncle for a long moment before she breathed out slowly.  
“For fuck’s sake, Lambert, you might be right.”  
He wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. “I know I am.”  
“T’was the same with me and Aiden,” he continued after he had drained the rest of his ale, “Eskel needed to point it out to me.”

Ciri stepped closer so she could lean against him and Lambert hugged her with one arm to his side.  
“So what do I do?” she asked after a moment, “I cannot just tell her.”

Lambert hummed in concentration, reminding her of Geralt. She smiled. All the world thought that witchers couldn’t feel, that they were just heartless monster hunters. But she knew better.

“I know what you’re gonna do,” Lamber said eventually, “you’re gonna challenge her to an arm wrestling match.” He nodded over to where Hjalmar, Cerys’ brother, was arm wrestling a man with massive bicepses.  
“There is nothing more romantic than arm wrestling.”

* * *

“Geralt,” Cerys asked, “do you think Ciri likes me?”  
“What do you mean?” he replied, “of course she likes you! You know that.”  
Cerys sighed and scratched the back of her neck.  
“No...yes...I mean, could she possibly _like_ like me?”  
Geralt frowned, but a moment later the penny dropped. “Oh.”  
After another moment of contemplation he said, “I don’t see any reason why she shouldn’t.”  
He was looking over to his daughter who was laughing about something with Lambert - probably some dumb joke. He smiled softly.

“I can go and ask her,” he offered but Cerys shook her head frantically.  
“No, you cannot!” She grabbed his arm, “there must be something else I can do to win her over. Something subtle or romantic maybe.”

Their heads whipped around to where a cheer had broken out. A crowd was gathered around Hjalmar, who’s hand was locked in a tight grip with another man.  
Geralt and Cerys looked at each other and grinned.  
“Challenge Hjalmar and show Ciri how strong you are,” Geralt said and they both nodded.

* * *

With an ear splitting roar of the crowd, Hjalmar finally pushed the hand of his opponent to the table and sprung up in victory. His friends clapped him on the back and he looked around and asked loudly, “who is next?”

Someone was pushing through the crowd and in the next moment he heard his sister call “me!”  
He sighed and whispered so loud most people could hear him, “are you sure? I don’t want to embarrass you.”

Cerys huffed and said, “I’m not the one who is going to get embarrassed.”  
The crowd cheered once more and they sat down facing each other across the narrow table.  
With a quick glance Cerys made sure that Ciri was watching her. When she was satisfied, she put her elbow on the table, opened her hand and looked expectantly to her brother. Hjalmar sighed but gripped her hand. One of the men standing next to them counted down from three and the match began.

* * *

Ciri had her eyes fixed on Cerys - on the auburn hair that was loosely braided back, the intense look of concentration on her face and the impressive bulge of her biceps that was stretching the fabric of her shirt.

Hjalmar and Cerys seemed to be similarly strong. Not only their hands were locked in a battle of will, but also their gazes. Ciri could see beads of sweat forming on Cerys’ forehead. For a moment it looked like Hjalmar would win but with another bout of strength Cerys finally pushed his hand down on the table.  
Ciri howled and clapped with the crowd.

Cerys beamed when Hjalmar clapped her on the back and shouted, “anyone here who dares take on our Queen?”  
So fast she couldn’t protest Lambert grabbed Ciri’s hand, lifted it up and called, “here!”  
People started to push her to the front and the blush on her cheeks was not just from the warmth in the hall or the ale she had been drinking.

Cerys smiled brightly as she noticed who she would compete against. Was this Geralt’s doing?

The two women sat down and grabbed hands. Ciri noticed that Cerys had similar calluses on her hands, typical for someone training with a sword. And even though her hand was sweaty, it felt like it belonged in Ciri’s hand.  
Cerys had lined her hazel eyes with kohl and Ciri felt like she could drown in them. She shook her head when the man started to count down.

Ciri had to put all her strength into it not to lose with the first shove from the Queen. Even though Ciri knew that Cerys was not a soft court lady but a battlehardned warrior, she was startled by how strong she actually was. And it weirdly didn’t spark jealousy in her heart but...admiration?

Cerys frowned in concentration as she pushed against Ciris hand and Ciri had the urge to reach over and smooth the crease between her brows out with her thumb. Or her lips.

So fast that Ciri was taken by surprise, Cerys finally pushed her hand to the table. And a third time this evening the crowd roared. Ciri only faintly registered that this meant she had lost because she somehow felt like she had won.

Instead of pulling her hand away, Cerys held on to Ciri and Ciri didn’t let go either.  
Without thinking twice about it she tucked at Cerys’ hand and asked with a grin, “do I get a consolation prize?”  
Her heart was beating fast and she eyed the expression on Cerys’ face closely. Her face softened into a smile and she cocked her head to the side.

With a wink she asked, “what do you have in mind?”  
They were still holding hands and Ciri leaned forward a bit.  
“Hmmm….what about a kiss?”

Cery’s smile widened into a grin. She wasn’t sure how, but somehow this stupid plan had worked. Cerys registered Ciri’s gaze following the tip of her tongue as she licked her lips.

“A kiss it is,” Cerys said and a moment later they were kissing. Cerys’ lips felt hot against hers and Ciri could taste the ale on them. Cerys tangled her free hand in Ciri’s hair and drew her closer. Ciri sighed and opened her mouth for Cerys.

They were startled out of their kiss when Hjalmar loudly laughed and shouted, “get a room.”

The crowd cheered and slammed their tankards rhythmically on the tables. Smirking, the two women broke apart and Cerys asked Ciri, “should we continue this in my rooms?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr [EllieStormfound](https://elliestormfound.tumblr.com/)


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